Family, A Work In Progress
by lostinfayt
Summary: Surprise! Bruce takes in yet another orphan. But there's a twist, the newly arrived little girl is... his daughter! How many surprise kids is he gonna have? A fic featuring my OC as Bruce's daughter and some super cute interactions between the Batfam. Later chapters will involve bad guys who do mean things to small children. Be aware! I will update story with more chapters, reme
1. A Hand To Hold

Bruce Wayne was a very rich man. But in no way was he the 'selfish' or 'greedy' type. His charitable and benevolent personality made him highly sought after by women, even some men, and envied by all. Both charming and charismatic, Bruce Wayne could change any horrible situation into a reason for hope. All of Gotham city admired him for it. And as of recently, Bruce had just bought up an old orphanage on the outskirts of Gotham, with his boys in mind, and had desired to fix it up to create a better world for the children of Gotham. Though as Bruce's sleek, black car pulled up to the shambly old building, the tall dark haired male knew immediately that something was off.

The building was worn with age. Screws had come loose or fallen, leaving the wood paneling missing or falling off. Parts of the roof were stooped like it may cave in any minute. Some windows were cracked and taped up where there were holes so the rain couldn't get in. The smell of dirt and rotting wood filled the air, giving off harsh vibes to anyone who came near.

"She's quite the fixer upper…" Bruce commented to himself.

As he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, Bruce headed up the broken cobblestone path to the building. He had to jostle the door quite hard to get it open and when he finally did get it open, dust flew into the air, making the young billionaire cough and his eyes water. Definitely not what he was used to. Glancing around the inside of the building, Bruce found the inside was rather nicer than the outside.

The wooden floors were covered in a thick layer of dust and broken or heavily used furniture littered the rooms. The walls were painted a soothing, but now faded green color. The rooms were quite spacious, though that may have been due to lack of anything in the rooms. While there weren't any carpets or mattresses on the beds, Bruce found that with a few preparations, this place could easily become the home to many children. He imagined it: warm paint on the walls, shelves stacked with coloring books and toys, beds covered in thick blankets and fluffy pillows, posters and children's artwork covered every inch of the wall. If he worked hard enough, maybe a few kids could really call this place home.

 **CLANK!**

Bruce glanced back into the darkness of the hallway where he had come from after walking into one of the many rooms to inspect the damage. He had come alone to access the property, having told the realtor that it wasn't necessary that he join him. There shouldn't be anyone else here. Narrowing his gaze, Bruce followed his ears as to where he had thought the sound had come from. He had seen most of the upstairs portion of the building, but he was told there was a basement that could be accessed from the west wing. Perhaps some type of animal had snuck in through one of the broken windows. Bruce turned the corner into the west wing and easily found the rusted metal door that must have lead down to the basement. All the other rooms had wooden doors so it made the most sense. The door squeaked open with an ear piercing screech, making Bruce wince in discomfort. Heavy cement steps lead downwards in an uncomfortable decline into darkness. There must have only been one or two windows since the warm sunlight from outside barely reached this room. It was almost too dim to make out anything in the room. But thanks to Bruce's late night patrols, his eyes adjusted pretty well to the darkness.

Alongside the broken washing machines and other scattered machine parts, the floor was littered with dirt. The cement floor was cracked in some areas and little puddles of water dripped down from the lead pipes on the ceiling. But what caught Bruce's eye was the line of large metal boxes stacked against the far corner of the room. They were hidden by the broken shelves that sat in the middle of the room and Bruce nearly would have missed them if it weren't for the gleam one gave off when the sun hit the corner of it. Upon closer inspection, Bruce realized that these weren't just any normal metal boxes. They were cages. They were abnormally large, too. What possible use could an orphanage have for such large cages? It wasn't like they just had one either… there were several.

"That's not good…" Bruce muttered to himself as he bypassed the shelves to get a closer look at the cages.

Bruce glanced in one of the cages, bending down to fiddle with the lock. It had some sort of padlock on it. When harboring animals, one doesn't usually use a padlock, do they? Bruce grimaced as his mind wandered to dark places as to what possible use these cages could have been for. One by one, he peered into each of the cages. But as he approached the last one, something was different. A light blue blanket hung from under the bars. it must have been the most recently used. But when Bruce went to investigate, he was astonished to find that the cage was still in use. Despite his wishing that his thoughts were wrong, his darkest fear had come true. Inside the cage, was a small child.

A young girl, aged seven or eight. She had long ebony-colored hair and her skin was as pale as freshly fallen snow. The simple, large white T-shirt she was wearing as a dress was in tatters. They way she lay across the cold metal floor of the cage, unmoving and barely breathing made her seem almost unreal. Her baby blue eyes were glossed over and dilated unnaturally. Her features were so delicate and fragile, she reminded Bruce of an old fashioned porcelain doll. But one factor made Bruce sure that she was no doll. The young girl lay in a pool of her own blood. The crimson liquid pooled out from a jagged gash that lead from her stomach up to the middle of her chest. It was amazing that someone so small could have so much blood.

"Hang on, I'm going to get you out!" Bruce said, suddenly snapping into hero mode.

With no reaction from the girl, Bruce feared that it may be too late to save her. Bruce stood up, cursing that the padlock had rusted shut and there was no way to crack it. Looking around the dusty room for something useful, Bruce spotted an old wrench lying hidden under one of the broken shelves. Moving quickly, Bruce grabbed the instrument and returned back to the cage. He held the heavy tool over his head, and he brought it down with all of his might. A few quick bashes later, the lock fell off the hook with a heavy clank. Carefully, as if not to cause the girl any more discomfort, Bruce slipped his arms under the girl and picked her up bridal style.

"I'm going to take you to hospital, hold on until then." Bruce whispered, hoping this girl would make it until then.

And as if they key word had broken the spell over her, the girl snapped back to life. Fear dilated her eyes and she looked at Bruce like he had just assigned her to a fate worse than bleeding out in that cage. She gripped his suit jacket in her small hands, shoulders trembling.

"N-No! No hos… hospitals." She managed to choke out before falling limp in Bruce's arms once more.

Bruce's eyes widened briefly before they settled in a determined gaze. Alright, no hospitals. A decision not all that favorable was made and Bruce cursed himself for having to choose it over anything else. But what else was he to do? Bruce rushed the girl to his sleek, black car. Laying her down in the back seat, Bruce hurried off the property. His car sped through red lights and made sharp turns, clumsy driving coming from Bruce constantly looking through the rear view mirror to check on the child in his backseat.

"Alfred!" Bruce shouted, bursting through the front doors of Wayne manor.

Almost immediately, Alfred appeared from the west corridor holding a wooden spoon and he wore apron around his waist. He must have been in the middle of cooking tonight's dinner.

"Oh, my word! Master Bruce, I thought you were just going to visit the orphanage." Alfred said, clearly astonished at the sight before him.

"I know, I know. But right now I need your help. I can't bring her to the hospital." Bruce said, panic evident in his voice.

"Alright, Master Bruce. We'll just have to bring her to the batcave infirmary. Let's get a move on then, please." Alfred said,ushering Bruce along the corridor quickly.

Once inside the infirmary, the small girl was placed upon the cushioned examining table. Alfred slips on a pair of blue surgical gloves and Bruce was made to anxiously paced back and forth off to the side, having thought that he might get in the way if he hovered too close. Alfred pulls out a surgical sponge and a suture kit. The suture needle was something Bruce was more than familiar with, having seen Alfred use it on his boys and on himself approximately a thousand times before. Though at this moment, the object seemed so foreign and frightening. Bruce cringed as the needle slipped through the girl's milky white skin, the thread tugging it along until the wound was slowly closed with each stitch. At one point, the girl had a seizure, and in order to prevent further harm to her body, Bruce was forced to hold her down so Alfred could finish quickly and work on other matters. After an hour of trying to stitch the wound closed, the gash still oozing blood like a geyser, Alfred had to tell Bruce to leave because it was clearly too much for him to handle. The billionaire had always been sensitive to those in pain, which Alfred knew all too well.

It was just after midnight when Alfred had managed to get the situation under control. He emerged from the infirmary with a towel in hand, trying to clean the blood from his hands. Even his tailored suit was stained with the crimson liquid. His face was creased in worry, though the look in his eyes showed that he was somehow relieved. And with a few words, Alfred was able to put Bruce's worries to ease.

"I've managed to stitch up the wound and stop the bleeding, Master Bruce." Alfred says.

Bruce sighs in relief and slumps down onto the couch in the hallway. He runs a hand through his slicked back hair and he let's out noise that informs Alfred just how distressed he was about the whole situation.

"There's something of interest that might be of concern to you…" Alfred started, trailing off lightly as if to draw in Bruce's attention further.

"And that is?"

"That girl… she seems to be missing the majority of her organs."

"Missing? As in… they were removed?" Bruce's expression immediately darkened.

"That I can't say. But it must have been along time ago because her remaining organs have adapted to function just fine without what she's missing. Currently she has a heart, lungs, stomach, kidneys, and only the large intestines." Alfred counted off what he remembered.

"You've got to be kidding." Bruce said, exhaling roughly.

"I'm afraid not, Master Bruce."

"But she's stable?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll just leave it at that." Bruce stood and moves to fix himself.

All this time he had not bothered to fix his appearance. His clothes were covered in dust, his shirt buttons had come undone partially and there was a rip in the sleeve of his blazer. Not to mention little strands of hair had fallen out of place. Since society holds appearance to such high standards, Bruce, who was a key member of Gotham's upper class society, was always sure to keep himself well groomed. But at this time, his mind was too consumed with the adrenaline with the situation the girl brought.

"I will retire to my room. Please keep an eye on that girl in the meantime. I want surveillance on her 24/7 and set up security measures." Bruce says as he glances one more time at the infirmary door.

"As you wish, Master Bruce."

Bruce gave only a curt nod to Alfred as a way of dismissing him and saying goodnight. Bruce felt a lingering reluctance to leave the injured girl alone and unconscious in the infirmary, but there was not much more comfort he could provide for her at this time. Exhaustion finally claimed his body and Bruce had no choice but to go to bed.

It was late the next day when Bruce was working in his study, that he was interrupted. The infamous Dick Grayson seemed to always know what was going around Bruce and that expression of confidence written across his face let Bruce deduct that he had already learned all about last night.

"I heard you picked up another stray, Bruce." Dick said, as he walked up to Bruce's sturdy wooden desk.

"And who did you hear this from?" Bruce asked, not looking up from his work.

"Well, no one really. I just so happened to need gauze from the infirmary and then I just so happened to find an unconscious child lying on the examining table."

Oh. Well, it's not like Bruce was hiding her.

"I found her on my trip to the orphanage." Bruce stated, so casual that you would think that this occurs on a regular basis.

"And you somehow thought it would be better to bring her here rather than a hospital?"

"Her injuries were meant for her not to survive. Whoever did that to her, would likely to be unhappy if they found out she was still alive. At the hospital, there would surely be gossip about such wounds. She would easily be discovered." Bruce explained, finally looking up into Dick's icy blue eyes.

"Alright, Bruce. You win this round. But don't come crying to me when she discovers our secret. Or ends up being crazy. It's likely after all that trauma." Dick said, sitting on the edge of Bruce's large wooden desk.

"I've thought of that, Dick." Bruce said, dismissively.

"Fine, fine." Dick said, as he rolled his eyes. "But are you going to tell the others?"

"It's no secret."

Dick glanced over his shoulder at Bruce, cocking an eyebrow in his direction.

"Well, alright. I'm sure they'll be over the moon." Dicks said with a dry laugh.

Bruce furrows his brows at the young man and Dick holds up his hands in defense. Dick stands from his spot on the desk and makes a show of turning his back to Bruce before he starts to exit.

"Just don't get too attached." Dick warned before finally leaving.


	2. What's Mine is Your's (fixed)

It was during dinner, when all was silent and everyone was quietly enjoying Alred's cooking, that Damian spoke up.

"Father…" He started, "The child in the infirmary, will she be staying long?"

Bruce wasn't surprised by the fact that most of the bat-fam seemed to know about the little girl he had taken in. So he didn't bother to look up from his meal, even taking another bite of the steak, done medium rare, on his plate.

"As long as it takes for her to recover." Bruce answered simply.

"Hey, why are you calling her a child?" Jason asked, pointing his fork at Damian. "Isn't she, like, the same age as you?"

"That's ridiculous, I'm clearly older!" Damian argued.

"Meh, same thing." Jason said, dismissively.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

Bruce sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. At times like this, he really did feel like he was raising a bunch of ten year olds. An additional eight year old might be a bad idea to add to the mix at this point.

"Hey, hey, hey… Relax you two. Damian, you're very mature for your age. Don't let him bother you. Jason, yes you're older, but you're clearly still immature to argue with that ten year old." Dick pointed out, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

Dick was a God send. Bruce can't help but smile fondly at him. He's grown into such a fine gentleman, especially growing out of that rambunctious little boy he used to be. But upon studying him closely, one could still see the dark haired male was still that same little boy. Dick, even though after so many lectures and lessons, still didn't hold his knife right and liked to cut all of his meat at one time before eating it. A habit Bruce could never quite peel him away from.

Damian wore a proud smirk and gave a superior look to Jason who crossed his arms over his chest and pouted childishly. And when everyone was finished with their meals, Alfred made quick work of the tableware and cleared off the surface with rapid efficiency.

Later that day, Bruce was tinkering with one of his gadgets on his workbench in the batcave when Alfred had snuck in with a tray of tea. Bruce regarded the elder male with a curt head nod and picked the tea cup up off the tray.

"Master Bruce, I come with more information on the girl." Alfred remarked plainly.

"Ah. Is she awake yet?" Bruce asked, taking a sip of what was his favorite style of tea.

"Afraid not." Alfred said with a sigh. "But I've got some news that I figure would require your immediate attention."

"Alright, I'm all ears." Bruce said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs.

"As you could probably guess, the girl needed several blood transfusions. While I was sure that I would need to go out and get a different type since the infirmary only carries type A+ and B-." Alfred started.

"Well, of course. Those are the only types we need for the family." Bruce remarked.

"I did find after taking a sample of the girl's blood, that she was A+, which we have. I was glad that I wouldn't have to go to the blood bank, but as you know, not only did my analysis of her blood give me her blood type, it also logged her DNA in your computer. And… the computer brought up an interesting warning."

"Go on…" Bruce urged, his expression turned serious.

"The computer recognized a familial match." Alfred said after a moment.

"With who?"

"You and Damian, sir."

The room was quiet for a long couple of minutes. Bruce had closed his eyes in his thinking, hands clasped together against his chest.

"And you're certain of this?" Bruce asked.

"Yes, sir. It was a 100% match with Master Damian."

"So she belongs to…"

"You and Mistress Talia, sir."

Bruce sighed heavily and runs a hand through his hair, shoulders sagged like a weight had been added. Alfred almost came to regret telling Bruce, but keeping this information from him would have torn him up inside. Bruce deserved to know. But before Alfred could take more time to second guess his decision, a soft alarm popped up on Bruce's computer screen.

"It seems she's awake now." Alfred said, the words holding more weight than they should.

Both men hurried towards the infirmary. Alfred remained a few steps behind Bruce's hurried pace, entering after Bruce had all but threw open the door. Bruce stopped a few steps inside the infirmary, ocean blue eyes locked on the sight before him. The girl, who has just woken up after several blood transfusions and should be very weak, was curled up in the far corner of the infirmary room, hidden behind the counter and a wheely-chair. Knees were pulled up to her chest and a tongue depressor seemed to be the weapon of choice in her hands. Bruce was thankful now that Alfred decided to lock away all the sharp instruments. The girl was shaking, clearly frightened of her new surroundings and the people who seemed to have magically appeared before her. She held the thick wooden stick out in front of her, like it might actually keep Bruce away. Though Bruce found the idea that the girl thought the little wooden Popsicle stick would keep away his 6'2'' well built and obviously fit build away from her, he made a show of putting his hands up in a nonthreatening manner and cast a sideways glance back at Alfred to signal him to do the same.

"Hey…" Bruce said softly. "We're not here to hurt you."

The girl still seemed hesitant to believe him, though her gaze was no longer fixed in terrified fear, now just mildly scared and curious. Bruce couldn't blame her for being so cautious. After all, someone of his stature was probably quite frightening to a little girl who knew nothing of him. He was also curious as to why the girl didn't seem to recognize him. All of Gotham knew his face. But this girl seemed blissfully unaware of the billionaire's reputation.

"My name is Bruce and this is my friend, Alfred." Bruce said, taking slow steps forward until he could kneel down just a foot in front of the frightened little girl. "What's your name?"

"E-Evette … But I like being called Evie." The girl says, still hiding behind the popsicle stick.

"Hi, Evie. Do you mind if Alfred gives you a little check up?" Bruce asks, quirking his head back and gesturing to Alfred with his chin. "You had a pretty big boo-boo when we found you. I just wanna make sure you're all better now."

Evie looks to Alfred and the elderly man flashes a reassuring smile. Evie lowers the tongue depressor and hands it back to Bruce when he holds his hand out for it.

"You aren't gonna poke me with needles, are you?" Evie asks, a sudden flash of fear running through her doll-like features.

"No needles." Bruce promises.

Evie seems to relax at Bruce's promise and she let's the dark haired male help her to her feet. Bruce guides her over to the examination table and picks her up under her arms to place her gently on the edge of the plastic covered table.

Alfred uses the sanitizer bottle before slipping on a pair of surgical gloves and stepping up to tap the large white T-shirt the girl was wearing, as if asking for permission to lift it up. Evie nods and lifts her arms up and Alfred pulls up the fabric over her head. Evie shies away from Bruce gaze, clearly feeling a little more vulnerable than she would have liked. Bruce steps back and respectfully closes the curtain to give Evie a bit more privacy. And about fifteen minutes later, Alfred steps out with a relieved expression and nods to Bruce to show that there were no anomalies from her healing process. And when Bruce pulled the curtain back, Evie had finished putting her shirt/dress back on. Bruce frowned to himself, thinking that it was sad that the only clothes the girl had was that bloodied T-shirt that was three sizes too big.

"Why don't we get you some clothes and a place to sleep?" Bruce suggested.

"Is… is it okay? I don't wanna cause any trouble." The girl said quickly, ducking her head.

Bruce offers Evie a soft smile and shakes his head, his mind wandering back to the fact that the child sitting in front of him was… his daughter. But was it really true? How could Talia have another child of his and not tell him? And why was she not with her? How did she end up at the orphanage?

"Don't worry about things like that. I'm the adult, so it's my job." Bruce said, hopefully reassuring the girl.

Evie bites her lip, struggling with the concept for a second. She blinks as she tries to think of another excuse to dissuade Bruce from giving her anything. While she thinks, her fingers run together against her thighs in a snapping fashion. Bruce instantly recognizes the gesture, as he often does it himself when he's thinking. He finds the idea comical that despite having never met each other, that his daughter would develop the same habits as him.

"Alfred, please take Evie upstairs to the guest room and get her some clothes." Bruce orders gently.

Evie looks like she wants to protest, but when she can't think of any excuses as to why he shouldn't help her, she stops. Alfred makes a gesture towards the door and Evie carefully moves to climb off the examination table. She toddles after Alfred with quiet, shuffling steps and Bruce watches until they're no longer in sight. Sighing heavily, Bruce realizes he'll have to tell her soon. But how could he even bring something like that up? It's not something that blows over well, nor can it be brought up in casual conversation.

"First… I should tell Damian."

Running a hand through luxuriously thick, black hair, Bruce made his way down the hallways and back into the mansion. A few strides of Bruce's long legs had him in front of Damian's bedroom. Bruce lifts his hand to wrap on the door gently, the heavy wooden door sliding open a few moments later.

"Father?" Damian inquires. "What are you doing here?"

"There's something I need to tell you about."

Damian catches the serious tone in his father's voice and steps aside to let the taller male in. Bruce gestures to the bed and Damian takes a seat next to Bruce on the end of the bed. With one look, Bruce could see that his silence was unsettling his youngest.

"Is it about the girl you brought home?" Damian asked curiously.

He was so intuitive. Whether he knew it or not, Bruce admired Damian's instinct to read people's body language. The ability allowed him to draw conclusions others wouldn't be able to come to if it weren't his natural talent for reading people.

"Evie." Bruce corrects. "There's something you need to know about her."

Damian makes an expression that showed he was worried about what Bruce was going to say and Bruce makes quick work of the suspension so as to not worry the boy any longer.

"She's your sister, Damian." Bruce said. "Alfred found a familial match on the computer."

"My sister? But Mother couldn't have had another child…" Damian says, clearly distraught. "I would have known. She would have told me."

"It's a 100% match. But it's clear she didn't want you to know, as she didn't keep her at the temple with you." Bruce said. "I found her in an orphanage. Can you avoid talking about Talia after I tell her about it? Since she was given away, I have a feeling Talia probably couldn't keep her around for a reason, but that doesn't mean she has to know that she kept you."

Damian, god bless him, understands quickly and gives a nod. While Damian liked to act spoiled and retained a 'holier-than-thou' attitude, he was actually quite empathetic. Bruce sighs and pats Damian on the shoulder. And when Bruce exits, he can hear Alfred down the hallway fussing over Evie. Alfred always loved taking care of the boys, especially when they were younger. Which was evident in the way he's always secretly looking out for Damian; extra snacks in his lunch box, making sure all of his socks were found after laundry day, putting his clothes in his closet in order of Damian's favorites, etc. Bruce made his way down the hallway to the guest room, having thought now would be a good time to check on Evie. Once there, Bruce peaked into the guest room to find Evie standing in front of the mirror, giving a test twirl to her new dress for Alfred. She wore a gentle grey dress with a white peter pan collar, the short sleeves covered by a black knit cardigan, and ankle socks detailed with delicate lace were pulled up her thin legs. Alfred seemed awfully pleased with himself. Sensing someone new in the room, Evie turned around to lock eyes with Bruce. She seemed embarrassed that he had seen her and hid slightly behind Alfred.

"It looks really good on you, Evie." Bruce said with a fond smile.

Evie blushes and plays with the skirt of her dress.

"Thanks, Mr. Wayne." Evie says, returning the smile.

Her smile was gentle and sweet, which created an air of innocence about her. If Bruce hadn't seen her in her previous state of injury, he would have never known she had faced such hardships. Seeing her like this was a relief to Bruce. After what she must have been through back at the orphanage, Bruce wasn't sure that Evie would be stable. But standing next to her like this, she seemed just like a regular kid. His kid.

"Master Bruce, I'm gonna start on dinner. Mistress Evette, I will see you at dinner time."

Evie gave a little wave goodbye as Alfred excused himself from the room, leaving Bruce and his little girl alone. Evie fidgeted slightly in her spot before turning to Bruce, clearly trying to muster up the strength to say something. Having an infinite amount of patience when it comes to children, Bruce waits as Evie tries to work out what she wants to say in her mind. Bruce can't help but find the way she looks at him adorable. Her baby blue eyes are filled with admiration and her words are honest. Evie was truly grateful for what Bruce had done for her, and it shows when she speaks.

"It's okay, no need to thank me." Bruce says with a gentle smile.

Evie gives an astonished expression, as she seems to think that Bruce has read her mind. Bruce can't help but be amused. It was obvious to anyone around with the look on her face that she wanted to say thank you, but just couldn't find the words to express herself.

"So this is the girl?" A voice spoke casually from the hallway.

Leaning against the door frame was a very amused Jason Todd. His dark hair was scooped out of his eyes with a hand before his arms came to cross against his chest. Bruce inwardly sighed in exasperation. It was obvious the teen was just trying to seem like the alpha male, or at least cool. But it was kind of hard to believe when he was wearing such an old faded rock band T-shirt. Though it seemed to work on Evie, for she moved to hide behind Bruce's leg.

"Jason, this is Evie. She'll be staying until she gets better." Bruce said.

Jason quirks an eyebrow at Bruce before lifting his chin to acknowledge the girl. Evie becomes a little flustered and hides further behind Bruce.

"Please put up with me for a little bit." Evie managed to stutter out.

Jason seemed to pick up on something in Evie's attitude and his demeanor changed instantly. Jason did seem to have a knack for focusing on little habits others had. Bruce wondered what he noticed.

"It's okay, kid. It's probably more likely that you'll have to put up with me rather than the reverse." Jason said with a warm laugh.

His attitude had become warm and friendly, letting Evie get a feel for who he was. The tension in her shoulders eased and she took a step away from Bruce, offering Jason a shy smile. Now that he thought about it, Evie sure didn't act her age. She was very soft spoken and she seemed so guarded. While she had experienced what could clearly be defined as a trauma, her actions displayed evidence of what would have to be years of conditioning. The way she was always apologizing and hiding from new people. Who was taking care of her before he found her? Something was off. Maybe this was what Jason had picked up on.

"Ah, now I remember why I came up here. Alfred says he has dinner ready." Jason remarked. "Better hurry before I eat your share, Evie."

Jason walked away with a little wave of his hand and a dark chuckle. Evie seemed to believe his threat as real, rather than gentle teasing and looked to Bruce with a look similar to that of a kicked puppy. Bruce couldn't help but laugh.

"He's just teasing, Evie." Bruce reassured.

Evie sighed in relief before toddling after Bruce with small steps. They reached the dining room in the next minute. Damian and Tim were already sitting down. Dick was helping Alfred carry in the dishes, while Jason must have been feeding Titus. Bruce pointed to the empty seat next to his to show Evie where she was to sit. Bruce saw the panicked look in her big blue eyes and figured she might give herself a heart attack if she wasn't given some guidance. But with a few familiar faces around, Evie seemed to find reassurance in their company. Tim immediately greeted Evie with a little wave and a gentle smile. Evie's spirits brightened and cast a curious gaze at Damian until their eyes met, making Evie nervous and she shifted her gaze to Dick who was now placing a steaming plate of food in front of her. She gave a nervous thank you and watched everyone else carefully, as if observing what kind of manners were expected of the others at the table. Bruce unrolled his napkin to get his utensils and placed the napkin in his lap before starting to cut his food. Everything was quiet, well as quiet as it could be in Wayne Manor. But in the silence, there was always something brewing. While everyone else was happily digging into their food, especially Jason who had crumbs and sauce all over his shirt already, Evie seemed rather hesitant to even pick up her silverware. Bruce would say something, tell her to eat, but you can only lead a horse to water, not make it drink. Plus, he could tell that she was still feeling like she was intruding. It would take time for her to adjust.

"Evie…" Dick said softly to get the young girl's attention.

Evie flinched at the call of her name, a worried expression flashing across her delicate features. And as if her actions confirmed some suspicions he had, Dick placed his silverware back on the table and wiped his mouth on his napkin. Evie looked to Bruce, her eyes writing over with fear as her expression seemed to ask "What did I do wrong?", but Bruce didn't have time to reply nor did he have an answer.

"The food in front of you belongs to you. You don't need our permission to eat." Dick said.

How could he be so blind? Evie was probably abused before, evidence being the manner in which she acted. And with the way she was waiting and observing, it seemed like she was patiently waiting for someone to give her permission. Bruce doubted now that she was even allowed to eat. She was so skinny.

"But… there's so much." Evie said, like it was obvious. "What if you're still hungry after you finish your plate and need more?"

Oh my god... Whoever had her before would steal food from her? Someone literally took the food from her mouth to feed themselves. Who could be so selfish?

"And I haven't been given permission to speak and I'm already talking. I got blood all over Mr. Pennyworth's clothes earlier and I made Mr. Wayne give up a room for me. I'm making everyone do things for me when they shouldn't. I'm not supposed to be this much of a burden. I-I'm messing everything up.." Evie said, her voice starting to tremble with every word.

While small inconveniences to everyone else, to Evie, they were grave mistakes. Evie was clearly distraught over her "mistakes", sniffling and hiding her sad expression in the collar of her dress. How could she perceive these things as bad? What was wrong with relying on others? The things Bruce and the rest of the family had done were mostly out of common sense. You would never leave a little girl in dirty clothes, would you? Or let her sleep on the floor. That's preposterous.

There was a heavy silence where everyone just seemed to be stunned as to who had twisted Evie's thoughts into the mess it had become. Bruce knew for a fact that no child would ever develop this negative thinking by themselves. Someone taught Evie that she should never be a burden and any action she did that made her rely on others was a mistake. And mistakes, you weren't allowed to make.

Dick looked to Jason, knowing full well the taller male had experience with abuse. He would be better equipped with handling a situation like this.

"Evie, I don't know what rules you had before…" Jason said, clearing his throat to get her attention. "But the rules are different here."

Evie's attention was brought back into reality and she sniffled as she locked eyes with Jason. She seemed hesitant to believe what the dark haired male was saying, but the concept of rules seemed familiar to her as he gave her undivided attention to Jason.

"Different?" She inquired.

"Yes. Here, kids who say 'please' and 'thank you' have permission to eat whenever they please." Jason said. "And if the plate was in front of you, it's yours, all of it, as long as you use proper manners and don't get crumbs on the floor. And if it's not meal time and you're still hungry, you can help yourself to what's in the fridge. Except for the chocolate ice cream, that's mine."

Jason came from a broken and very abusive home, so he seemed to know exactly what to say when it came to situations like this. To Evie, it seemed like someone had drilled in the concept of following rules no matter what they were. If she wasn't following the rules, it seemed to cause her great anxiety, as observed by Bruce. So creating new rules that she had to follow would be the easiest way to integrate her into the norms of the batfam. Jason was a genius.

"He's joking." Damian said. "I eat the chocolate ice cream all the time."

"So it was you. You little shit!" Jason said, throwing his spoon promptly at Damian.

Damian caught the spoon and placed it down on the table and Tim shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm guilty too." Tim admitted after a second.

Dick snorted and nearly choked on his next bite of food while Jason was held back from flipping the table by Tim. Evie looked to Bruce, who just seemed to be amused by the whole ordeal. This did happen to be a daily occurrence between the boys.

"So… I can eat everything on the plate?" Evie asked after a second, as if to confirm what she learned.

Hearing the small girl's question, all the boys settled back into their seats immediately and calmed down like a switch had been flipped.

"Of course. But what do you say?" Jason asked, quirking a brow in her direction.

"Thank you for the food!" Evie said.

The anxiety had left her expression and the tension was gone from her shoulders. Jason's ideas seemed to do the trick. Bruce smiled fondly at Jason and the meal resumed, but this time Evie was joining in too. She used her fork to awkwardly scoop up some peas, a little line appearing between her brows as she concentrated. Alfred seemed to realize her struggle and promptly switched out her fork with a spoon. God bless him.

After dinner, Alfred cleared the table and the kids ran off to do whatever they pleased. Jason locked himself in the media room, Tim the computer lab, and Damian made a few disgruntled noises as Bruce reminded him that he couldn't practice his swordsmanship while Evie was around. Not only was that cause for suspicion, but it may frighten her.

"You're welcome to explore the manner, Evie." Bruce said, turning to the little girl when he realized she seemed at a loss of what to do now. "Every door that's unlocked is fine for you to enter. Or you can go back to play in your room by yourself."

"Do you have a map?" Evie asked after a second.

Bruce thought back to the time Dick had drawn out a map of the mansion, complete with his own ideas of a defense system, which included robot crocodiles. Despite Bruce's stubborn will that he would most definitely not hire someone to engineer them, he still hung up the map in the bat cave, where it still remained to this very day.

"No… But after you explore, why don't you draw one up for me?" Bruce suggested.

"Okay!" Evie agreed excitedly.

And with that, she was off. She'd been here a few days, but still didn't know what the mansion contained. After half an hour of exploring, she knew there were six complete bedrooms, five bathrooms with a showers, and several guest bedrooms. But what other rooms were in between? Evie wandered the carpeted hallways, peeking her head into each room. She stopped every few doors and tried to list off the rooms she had just visited, as if trying to memorize all of them in one go. She was sure it would take a few tries before she got it right.

"Bathroom… living room… office… den…" Evie listed softly before nearly walking straight into a wall.

Thankfully, she realized last second that she needed to turn. Evie stumbled back a few steps to regain her composure. She blinked a few times as she glanced around the newly discovered hallway. She thought she had seen this whole floor already.

"Hallway 4 has five rooms, then making a right, hallway 5 has two rooms." Evie stated as she counted the number of visible doors.

Evie skipped the first door because she found that it was locked. The next door was much larger than the ones she's seen so far. Two double doors made of a heavy polished wood. In the wood, vines and flowers were engraved with delicate strokes of a chisel. The door knob was a thin brass material that curled around the middle and formed petals, creating a flower for a door knob.

"What a fancy-looking door." Evie remarked, hand coming up to twist the door open.

Evie pulled open the door, having to use both hands since it was so heavy, and cautiously peeked her head inside. While the room was dark and most of the objects inside could not be made out, Evie could tell the room was a library. The whole room smelled of old books and leather. Evie took a step inside the library and used the wall as a guide to not bump into anything. Sliding her hand against the smooth surface of the painted wall, Evie soon found the light switch and flipped it on. The lights flickered for a second before illuminating a room the size of a school cafeteria. Wooden bookshelves of varying shades of brown decorated the walls. A few couches were scattered here and there for convenience of the reader. Now this was what you would call an a-grade library. As Evie ran her fingers over the spines of a few books, she found that there was absolutely no dust. Either Alfred was amazing at dusting, even in between the books, or these books were well cared for. Some of the books Evie didn't recognize and some she couldn't even read. Latin? Check. Spanish? Check. Romanian? Check. A language she didn't know? Checkity check. Though to be honest, Evie didn't even recognize a few of the words in English. She was seven after all.

"These are all too hard to read by myself…" Evie said sadly.

Evie checked out all the bookshelves on the right side, hoping to find something that might catch her eye and that she could read. But to no prevail. The left side was more hopeful as she could see brightly colored spines peeking out from a bookshelf way in the back corner of the room. Picture books! Using a nearby wobbly step stool, Evie was able to reach the few brightly colored books on the fourth shelf. Evie picked the thickest one and hopped off. She settled herself in a corner against one of the couches, too excited to waste the time to actually sit down in it. The overhead lamp gave her just the perfect amount of light to read in the dimly lit room in the hours of darkening evening. It had already been seven o'clock when Evie discovered the library and by the time she had made it through twelve picture books, it was nearly ten. Which was way past her bedtime. But she wanted to keep reading. She had just gotten to the good part. Would the three little pigs make it? They had to, right?

But soon, big blue eyes began to droop and eyelashes fluttered. Her body felt heavy and her head kept slipping to the side as her mind threatened to succumb to the sweet siren call of sleep. Oh, but she needs to know if the bricks were strong enough to keep the Big Bad Wolf out. The straw and sticks weren't good enough, but the last little piggy was smart. He had to have beaten the wolf. She hoped the other piggies made it to the house in time… Too late, Evie was fast asleep.

It was around twelve when Dick walked into the library, having needed to grab a reference book to help with his architectural research. He wasn't expecting the lights to still be on when he entered. He especially didn't expect to find a little girl slumped over in the corner on top of a pile of picture books. His picture books.

Back before Bruce had several small children following him around him like ducklings, he was a "first time parent" with Dick. Oh, how he hovered over the raven haired boy. He checked out every little scrape and bruise, and mind you there were a lot. Bruce bought him an absurd amount of toys and that's why there was an entire shelf devoted to picture books. It has been a long time since those books have been read. After all, Damian, when he arrived, was tearing his way through Dickens instead. Dick remembered when he used to curl up with those picture books, even asking Alfred to read them to him once in awhile. He was glad that someone had use for them now.

"Mmnnn… Dick?" Came a very groggy and sleepy inquiry.

Dick couldn't help but smile fondly as he heard his name come from sleepy lips. Big blue eyes were glossed over and Evie's hair was sticking up at odd angles. He turned on his heel to face the small girl, making a few steps so he could plop down on the couch besides her.

"Hello sleepy head." Dick greeted fondly.

"What… What time is it?" Evie asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Time for you to get to bed." Dick pointed out.

Evie nodded obediently and moved to close the book in her lap, placing it with the rest. But when she tried to stand, her sleepy state of mind wouldn't let her. Evie's legs locked and she ended up sliding back down. Dick couldn't help but feel a maternal instinct kick in and he stood from the couch to let his arms slide under Evie's legs and her back.

"N-no, I can walk." Evie insisted.

"You're not gonna let me show off for you?" Dick asked, bouncing Evie a little in his arms. "Not even a little?"

Dick was kind of glad Bruce brought Evie home. He really liked kids, and with things stiring up with Kory, he was sure he would have at least one of his own soon. So why not practice and let himself baby Evie a little? From what he understood, the girl needed a strong paternal figure and heaven knows Bruce lags a little in that area.

"C'mon, I'll take you back to your room." Dick said, cocking his head in the direction of the hallway.

Evie didn't make any further complaints, either due to being so tired or that she didn't mind being carried. Small hands came up to take hold of Dick's rugby shirt, small head resting against his chest as his quiet footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. A soft yawn and a little shifting was all that came from Evie before she was back to sleep. Dick used his foot to open Evie's door, thanking the gods that he didn't drop Evie while trying to move her blankets around. Soon, Dick had the small girl wrapped up in her bedsheets, safely tucked away in Egyptian cotton.


	3. Bruises, Scrapes, and Parks (Fixed)

The next day started off with a fresh start and Bruce was contemplating where he went wrong when raising his boys. The ceiling lamp above Bruce's head shook and muffled sounds of shouting and things being knocked over emanated from the floor above. From what he can remember, there were four stages to the development of his parenting skills. And in respective order, it went like this:

Stage one

When Dick first arrived and a shout, scream or crash disrupted the quiet of the manor Bruce was up and out of his chair. He was pretty sure he had gone into Tachycardia as he yelled for Alfred whilst running to the boy's aid.

Stage two

Jason came along. Whenever the momentary quiet was disrupted by shouts, screams or crashes, Bruce's pulse still rose significantly. Rising from his chair he went off in search of his sons to see what the problem was. He'd call for Alfred if required i.e broken bones.

Stage three

Tim joined the clan but by now Bruce had mellowed slightly. The sporadic quiet of the manor was interrupted by shouts, screams or crashes, he would lower his paper and call out if everything was alright. If he got a reply he'd remain where he was, only moving if the noise continued. On occasion, he called Alfred.

Stage four

Shouts, screams, crashes and death threats no longer are a just cause to move Bruce from his chair. By the time Damian comes along, the man merely sighs and adds a shot of whiskey to his coffee and pretends his name's not 'BRRRRRUCE!'

And it definitely not 'BRRUCE MAKE HIM STOP!'

Now it was the silence that sends Bruce into heart failure. There's nothing more terrifying when a deathly silence settles over the house when he knows all four of his sons are home and awake.

Within seconds Bruce was up and scouring the manor, terrified of what on earth the boys are up to this time. Alfred was already on the hunt.

Last time the manor was quiet?

Tim had made a replica of the Death Star - with lasers- apparently he wanted authenticity.

So when he called out to see if things were alright and he got a large amount of profanity in return, he was satisfied that everything would be alright. But then he remembered that his four boys weren't the only children he had home and he was instantly out of his seat and rushing towards Evie's room. The wooden door was still closed, but Bruce could see the light from inside the room peek out from under the space at the bottom of the door. Bruce knocked and when he got no reply, he gently twisted the doorknob to let himself in. The light was on, the bed was made, the newly laid out clothes for Evie were untouched. It was as if Evie hadn't even slept in the bed last night. Bruce made a quick scan of the room, trying to locate the little girl, stopping when he couldn't spot her. Windows were closed and there wasn't any other exits except for the door he had just walked through. But then Bruce remembered he was dealing with a traumatized seven year old, not a trained assassin, and moved to sit himself down on top of the bed. Knees spread and fingers interlocking as elbows rested on muscular thighs, Bruce cast a tired look upwards.

"They're not really trying to kill each other." Bruce said to the empty room.

Bruce sat in silence for a second, as if expecting the silence to talk back.

"That's just how boys are. I'm sure they're just fighting for the TV remote."

Bruce heard a soft rustling before analyzing blue eyes caught sight of raven colored hair peeking out from under the bed. Soon, Evie scooted out from under the bed between Bruce's legs. Her big blue eyes were shimmering with worry and she seemed hesitant to come out of hiding.

"Are… are you sure?" She asked.

Bruce nodded and jerked his chin in a signal to have Evie join him on the top of the bed. The smaller of the two wiggled out the rest of the way from under the bed and climbed on top of the bed. Evie's legs dangled and her sock clad little feet rubbed together as she seemed to be trying to process the little awkward silence. But a loud crash and a number of curses erupted, causing Evie to flinch. Bruce settled a comforting hand on the top of her head.

"Why don't we try to break it up, then?" Bruce asked. "They have been calling my name for quite some time now."

Evie nodded and she slipped off the bed with little noise. Bruce buttoned his suit back up as he stood and cast a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Evie was following him. She waddled after him with small steps echoing just slightly after his. Bruce had only realized a few seconds into their joint walk down the corridors that his long strides were hard to keep up with when you were seven and under 4 foot and slowed his steps, letting Evie finally catch up to his side.

"DAMIAN, YOU LITTLE SHIT."

Ah, that was most definitely Jason. Bruce swung open the double doors to the media room and was instantly met with his youngest backflipping away from what was assumed a blow from what used to be a stapler, Jason was on the opposite side of the room, a very obvious red mark in the shape of a fist on his left cheek, Dick was lazily draped over the arm of the couch, holding an icepack to his knee, and Tim was hiding behind the couch as he used one of his books as a shield. And when the four boys laid eyes on Evie, cursing immediately ceased and changed to obscure insults that could only have been picked up from Alfred.

"SOGGY BISCOTTI."

"OLD SOAP."

"Oh, good one." Jason remarked snarkily.

"It was a good one." Damian insisted.

Bruce cleared his throat to stop the fight and all boys turned their gaze to the dark haired billionaire. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave his best stern fatherly-figure expression he could muster. Jason snorted, but quickly regained his composure as he was trying to go along with the little ploy. Bruce playing the respectable father to sooth Evie's worries was actually kinda cute.

"Knock it off, you… all of you." Bruce said, waving a hand around the room in a general gesture to everything,

"Father…" Damian said, masking the slight shock to his tone.

After all, Bruce had preferred to let the boys fight whatever it was on their own. Rarely did he ever intervene, even when the boys were quite literally at each other's throats. It only took Damian a second longer to process that this wasn't an actual scolding and more of a solution to the worry in Evie's eyes. Damian shifted his battle stance into a more relaxed posture and nodded.

"Fine… You're forgiven this time, Todd." Damian remarked proudly.

"Oh, such a gracious offer." Jason said, rolling his eyes.

The tension in the room seemed to melt away as Evie scooted out from her spot behind Bruce's leg to stand in front of Dick. At least she wasn't hiding from them anymore.

"Does it hurt…?" She asked sadly as she gazed at his ice pack.

Dick's eyebrows raised and he quickly scanned Evie's expression.

"You think a little scratch like this was gonna hurt the mighty Dick?" Dick said with a hearty laugh.

"But you've got ice on it…" Evie pointed out.

"That's just to help it heal faster." Dick explained. "I could still run a marathon like this."

Jason let out an undignified noise and fought back a laugh, to which Dick responded by sending him a death glare. Evie looked at Dick like he was some type of god. To a kid, the bruise the was swelling purple-like on his lower thigh would be intolerable. But to Dick, who received much worse injuries on a daily basis, it was nothing. So as Evie stared at Dick with sparkly blue eyes filled with admiration, Dick's expression melted into a sweet smile.

"Well, maybe I'll wait a bit before running some marathons." Dick said with a chuckle.

Satisfied with how things were resolved, Bruce turned to leave. When he turned his back, Evie was climbing in between Dick and Jason, and was helping Tim pick out what to watch. As he turned the corner, Alfred was waiting for him. It seemed as if he had something to say.

"Sir," Alfred started, almost if asking for permission to speak.

"Do you need something, Alfred?" Bruce asked.

"After recent events, I find that I have a suggestion for you." Alfred said in his usual polite tone.

"You always seem to know what's right, Alfred. Speak your mind." Bruce said, taking a more relaxed stance.

"It's clear to say that the boys... aren't what society would consider 'normal', not to give a negative connotation to it, but they act much too like trained fighters than what an average young male would act like." Taking a breath, Alfred continues. "As I know you would like to keep theirs and your identity a secret... It might be easier if you were to all to assume the role of a 'normal' family, so as to not arouse any suspicion."

Bruce narrowed his gaze in confusion before Alfred moved to clarify.

"I am merely suggesting you put on the appearance of a normal family. Master Damian practicing his swordsmanship in the garden wasn't something normal ten year old's do. Master Jason's habit of pulling a gun out on his siblings was also something that might give your identities away."

"Alright, Alfred. I see where this is going. You're saying I should play the father figure and go play with my kids at the park."

"Brilliant idea, sir."

"Alfred, no. I don't do parks. I don't even take Damian out to play." Bruce said, his eyes widening softly.

"Then I suggest you start now." Alfred said difinitively.

Bruce ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. But you will not see my kissing any 'boo-boo's. Alfred, of all the ideas you've had. This is the worst one so far."

As Bruce power walked away with a slight begrudging attitude, Alfred smiled to himself.

With a quick scan of the mansion, Bruce found Damian and Evie outside with Tim. Apparently Tim was showing off his toy plane collection. While Damian seemed mostly unamused, Evie was dazzled.

"Tim, Damian, Evie, we're going out." Bruce stated plainly.

"Out? Where?" Tim asked.

"We never go out." Damian adds.

"Sure we do." Bruce said. "And today, we're going to the park."

"The park!?" Evie asked excitedly.

Damian, who at first seemed to want to protest the outing, stopped when he saw the excitement on Evie's face. He bit his bottom lip and let out a 'TT' sound before casting his gaze to the side in defeat. On the other hand, Tim seemed pretty comfortable with accepting Bruce's change in demeanor, though he was cautious about making any hasty decisions.

"I've already had Alfred bring the car around. Grab your coats." Bruce urges, gently urging his boys along with a hand to their back.

Tim doesn't make any verbal objections and scampers off down the hallway to the coat closet to fetch what he was told. Damian needed a bit more urging and Bruce cast him a stern 'don't you dare say anything' look, and with that, Damian was off getting his coat. By the time Bruce reached the coat closet, Damian was zipping up his coat with a disgruntled look while Tim was helping Evie button up her jacket. Bruce found pleasure in watching the excitement in Evie's eyes, which was also evident in the way she couldn't stop rocking back and forth on her feet. After Bruce slipped on his own coat, his pack of children followed him out the door and down the driveway to the car. Evie was instantly glued to the window, excitedly watching the buildings and people go by as Bruce drove slightly above the speed limit. Damian had his arms crossed over his chest the whole time, clearly pouting that he was dragged on this little escapade. Another fifteen minutes and they arrived at Gotham's very own Central Park… which was strangely not located in the center of Gotham.

Gotham City's Central Park was made possible by Bruce's charitable donation to the Parks and Recreations Department. The park was Gotham City's way of experiencing a little bit of green in the bustling city. Since it was Bruce's little project, of course all the stops were pulled out. The grass in the park was a luxuriously thick green and lay like a blanket over the hills. Different types of trees popped out from the ground in various spots around the park. Bushes and flowers decorated the red brick path that winded around the hills. It was serene. And towards the front of the park was a fitness center. Small amounts of workout equipment were drilled into the ground to better the health of Gotham's citizens. To the right of it, a playground. There were slides, a fireman's pole, a sandbox, and even a jungle gym. Bright colors decorated the equipment and the ground was covered in colored rubber, to make the ground softer and safer.

To the left of Bruce, Evie was shifting from foot to foot excitedly, hands playing with the skirt of her dress. Big blue eyes seemed focused on the swingset at the far end of the park. But she didn't move, not an inch. It was almost as if she was awaiting permission from Bruce to leave his side. Bruce gave an analyzing expression to Evie's body language before gesturing with his chin to Tim and Damian to get a move on. Damian went to protest, but Tim slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Come on, Evie. I'll race you to the slide."

"I will not take place in this childish game." Damian stated, once he managed to free himself of Tim's grasp.

"Why, afraid to looooose?" Evie teased, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"I am not." Damian said, turning his heated gaze to Evie.

While most children would be frightened of the demon spawn, Evie just didn't seem to mind his prickly attitude.

"Then I guess you won't mind my head start!" Evie shouted over her shoulder as she took off.

"Have fun being in last place, Damian!" Tim teased as he sprinted after Evie.

Damian's arms dropped to his side and a mix of shock and anger washed over his sharp features before he himself joined in the race.

"You both have no honor, cheating like that!"

Quickening his pace by keeping his feet off the ground as much as possible, Damian easily caught up with Tim. Then he shot past Evie, cutting her off at the monkey bars. Both red faced and out of breath, Damian reached the slide before both of his competitors.

"A-as if I would… lose t-to cheaters like you." Damian said, his breath coming out in short, hot pants.

Damian crossed his arms over his chest and straightened his posture, acting as if that wasn't as challenging as it was. Evie came in second, dress shoes skidding into the rubber as she came to a quick stop. Tim came jogging up leisurely, having let Evie win like the good big brother he was.

"Woah, Damian. You're like a cheetah!" Evie exclaimed, big blue eyes seeming to sparkle with admiration. "You must have super powers if you can run like that!"

Damian paused, having not expected the reaction. He wasn't used to having someone openly express their admiration for him. Especially not with whom he had for siblings.

"W-well, for someone like me, that was nothing." Damian said, acting cool. "Someone as skilled as me doesn't need superpowers."

Quietly off to the side, Bruce sat on a nearby park bench. The wood was old and damp, but comfortable to recline against. Briefly, a smile crossed his face as he watched the interaction between the children. Blue eyes seemed almost sad as the ghosts of his past were recalled.

"Hey, Evie, watch this." Tim called, grabbing the little girl's attention.

Evie slid down the polished green fire pole before running over to see what Tim wanted her to see. Tim stood in front of a pull up bar, hands bent at the elbows as he prepared to do a trick.

"What're you doing, Tim?" She asked, curiously.

"Just watch."

Tim tightened his grip on the bar and hoisted himself up so that his waist rested on the bar. Leaning forward, the momentum allowed Tim to spin around the bar almost effortlessly. He spun around and around, clearly showing off. Evie's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as she watched in awe. Of course this was easy for Tim, having trained vigorously with Dick. Damian huffed and rolled his eyes, not amused. But the twinge of jealousy couldn't be missed. How dare Evie look at someone else like that. That look of pure, innocent admiration was obviously meant only for him.

"Tadah!" Tim said, sticking a perfect landing after releasing himself from the bar.

Evie clapped excitedly, as a thank you for the show. Tim jokingly flexed his arms, acting as if he had large muscles to show off.

"I wanna try!" Evie exclaimed as she ran to the bar.

Arms stretched above her, she couldn't quite reach it. She jumped this time, hoping it would make up for the height difference. She wasn't quite there yet. A quiet heat excited both Damian and Tim's heart beats as they saw the display for them. For at that moment, she had won over their hearts. Tim reached under her arms to hoist Evie up so her hands could grasp the bar.

Tim knew girls. Steph, Cass, and Barb were girls. They were all pretty and smart, not to mention tough as nails. They could take care of themselves. But Evie was small and tiny. She looked at Tim like he held stars in his arms and she had the biggest eyes. He had been reserved to letting someone else in his life, especially in his line of work. But Evie was different. She invoked this pure sensation of paternal instinct inside of him. Tim wanted to play games with her and help her with homework. He wanted to compliment all of her drawings and beat up school bullies for her. He wanted to be her family.

Damian couldn't believe that there was someone who shared the same bloodline as him who could be so… gentle. Bruce was tall with broad shoulders, and had the body of a Greek God. His mother was slender and her arms and legs were rounded with muscle definition. Not to mention she could probably crush a person's skull with her thighs. And while he may have been ten, Damian's body was toned with muscle and sculpted to be able to stand the stress of battle. But Evie was nothing like them. While she held the same trademark appearance as the rest of the Wayne family; blue eyes and black hair. But her form was small. Shoulders rounded off and hunched forward in a perpetual slump, probably the result of being stuck with the low ceiling of that cage. She wasn't slender like their mother, but rather sickly skinny. Her steps were hesitant and the sound of them were almost nonexistent. Her gaze wasn't piercing and confident like Bruce or Damian's. Her eyes were round like the sun and held a sparkle of innocence, something Damian had lost long ago. Damian hadn't realized this was what drew him to her. He would teach her the ways of the League and she would become great, just as he was destined to be. He found the idea of having someone else with him when he achieved greatness comforting. And who else would be better to brag to than his little sister?

The trio spent practically the whole day at the park. Dress pants were stained with grass at the knees and white socks were no longer white. Shirts were untucked and Evie had even managed to rope Bruce into playing a single round of hide-and-seek with them. It was early evening when the Batfam had loaded up into the car and headed back on home to Wayne Manor. On a whim, Bruce made a stop to get ice cream at a little shop on South Street if they all promised not to tell Alfred they had dessert before dinner. He had gone there with his parents years before.

"Did you really order coffee flavored ice cream, Drake?" Damian asked, a look of disgust crossing his face. "Don't you consume enough of it already?"

"There is always room for more coffee." Tim insisted.

"Tim, you drink three pots a day." Bruce stated, worry carefully masked.

Evie held Tim's hand as the family walked back to the car, which was parked around the corner. Bruce was in the middle, Damian on the other side of him. He couldn't help but feel nostalgic. Bruce may have had a couple of kids, but he never really had the motivation to do "family" things. With Evie, it was different. She was still young enough to believe in mother's folk tales and get excited for holidays. And like any traumatized person, he didn't want her to experience the loss of childhood like he did. He already missed that boat with Damian. Whatever threat was lurking in Evie's life was just that, lurking. Until it reared its ugly head, Bruce was determined to keep her pure.

CLICK.

Bruce knew this sound very well. This sound confronts him every time he goes out on patrol at night as Batman. It's the sound of someone removing the safety from a gun.


	4. Recovered Puzzle Pieces

Immediately after turning the corner, Bruce was met with the barrel of a gun. He wasn't scared. He had faced many unruly thugs who used that as their weapon of choice. He even had several scars from the several bullet holes that had been punched into his body. He knew what to expect, as did Tim and Damian.

"Give me your wallet!" The man holding the gun says.

The man holding the gun was dirty. His face was unshaven and his eyes drooped low from lack of sleep. His clothes hung off of his sickly thin frame as they were many sizes too big. His brown leather belt the only thing keeping his pants from falling man's nails were crusted with dirt and his hands were shaking. Whether is was from anxiety or drugs, Bruce couldn't tell.

"I know you, you're that billionaire, right? Better not be stingy with the money, pal." The gunman urged, shoving the barrel of the gun against Bruce's chest roughly.

Suddenly, a small hand was grasping at the back of his pant leg. It hit him just then that he wasn't the only one in danger. While Tim and Damian could probably take care of themselves, Evie certainly could not. He glanced back over his shoulder to catch the uncensored fear in her bright blue eyes. Evie's shoulders trembled as her small hand fisted the fabric of Bruce's dress pants. He wouldn't let her get hurt. He would take care of this thug.

Bruce brought a hand up under the barrel of the gun swiftly, knocking the gunman's aim off. This startled the man and he fired, the bullet whizzing past the billionaire and lodging itself into the brick wall of a nearby building.

"Mr. Wayne!"

The voice shook him. To her, it seemed as if he was being reckless and she was scared for him. The fearful look in her eyes made her eyes watery, and in turn reflected the shine of the moon. Bruce knew that look very well. It was the same terrified expression he wore the night his parents died. He froze, unknowingly giving the gunman an opportunity to fire. Bruce felt the bullet pierce through his abdomen first before he felt his own warm blood gush from the wound. Hands instinctively went to try and cover the wound, to put pressure on it.

" _Shit._ " The gunman said under his breath.

Realizing the drasticness of what he had done, the gunman fled. Bruce's breath came out in shallow pants as he collapsed to his knees. He had been shot before, many times in fact, but the pain always managed to leave him in shock. He gasped for air, lungs seeming not to get enough oxygen.

"Drake, call an ambulance!" Damian urged.

Tim, flustered, reached into his pant pocket to whip out his cell phone. The police were quickly phoned. Damian had Bruce lay on his back in hopes of letting gravity stop the blood flow from being so heavy. Shaking and crying, Evie ran to Bruce's side. She placed her trembling hands over Damian's, shivering at the contrast between Bruce's warm blood and the chilly night air. The gravely floor in the alleyway hurt Evie's knees as she crouched besides the dark haired billionaire. The little rocks broken up from the uneven black top dug into her skin, but she was far more worried about the pain Bruce was in at the moment. Her vision blurred as tears rolled down her cheeks endlessly.

"Evie," Damian said sternly. "Push down hard with me. We need more pressure."

Tim was still relaying information to the police and at some point had informed them that an ambulance would be arriving soon, but Evie seemed a little out of it and her reaction time was slowed. She nodded, hearing Damian's orders after the moment it took her brain to process the information, shifting up on her heels to help put more of her body weight on the wound. Bruce was cursing under his breath and practically unconscious at this point. But a sudden flash of green light caught Damian's attention.

That was not the siren light of an ambulance. Damian glanced down at his hands, a warmth coming from on top of them. It wasn't like the slippery warmth from Bruce's blood, but a comforting one. A kind of comfort that comes from waking up on a winter morning wrapped in soft blankets. Damian felt the green light between his fingers, gently cascading over the wound. His gaze shifted to Evie as he followed the source of the light; it was coming from her hands. Evie's raven black air was whipping back and forth gently to some unseen force that only seemed to surround her. Almost like magic, the blood stopped flowing and fear started to recede. Bruce had fallen unconscious at this point, but his breathing was now steady. Like its job was done, the light started to fade back into Evie's hands. When she lifted her hands away, the bullet wound had been closed and the only evidence that the incident even happened was the pool of blood under Bruce, which was starting to cool from the chilly winter air.

 _Clink!_

A crunched up bullet fell from Evie's still trembling hands. Before anyone could bring up the strange happenings around Evie, the ambulance pulled around the corner. The back doors burst open and two EMT's came barreling out with a stretcher in tow. Tim relayed information to the paramedics, medical history and blood type. Damian followed Tim into the back of the ambulance, who had taken a spaced out Evie by the hand with him. The whole gang met up at Gotham General Hospital after Tim made a call using a pay phone in the lobby.

Dick was the first to arrive with Alfred. He made quite the scene, fussing over the younger bat kids to see if they had any injuries. Everyone heard Jason arrive when he practically crashed his motorcycle into the side of the hospital. Once Dick explained to Jason that no one was hurt, he was just about ready to hurl the gunman into the sun. While the Batfam was busy talking about what was going to happen next or even if Bruce had an Advanced Directive in case he were to go into surgery, Evie sat quietly in one of the seats in the back of the waiting room. Her knees were pulled into her chest and her head was in her arms. Off to the side, Damian was sending a suspicious glare in Evie's direction. Dick noticed and shifted to block Damian's view.

"Come on, let's all sit down. It won't do anyone any good to just stand here." Dick said, guiding Damian by the shoulders into a chair.

Jason took a corner chair and tilted it back until he would nearly fall over. He claimed to be in perfect control and told Dick to quit being such a worry wart when he made a comment about it. Alfred sat next to Evie, trying to strike up conversation. But she seemed despondent and didn't really respond.

"Evie," Damian said sternly.

The stern tone had Evie snapping to attention. Worried blue eyes locked with Damian before falling back to the floor in shame. And with the way he had called to her, now the whole Batfam was curious as to what he had to say.

"What did you do to Father?" He asked bluntly.

"She couldn't have done anything, Damian. She didn't fire the gun." Dick tried to reason, not knowing what he was referring to.

"That's not what I'm talking about. You took the bullet out of him. But I watched you. I didn't see you move. Explain yourself." Damian insisted, standing up from his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

Now all eyes were locked on Evie. Evie started to play with the hem of her skirt, clearly trying to work out what she was going to say. She was silent for just a moment more before she finally gathered the courage to speak up.

"I'm sorry…" Evie said, in a voice just above a whisper. "I can't control it when I'm scared."

This got everyone's attention now. Even Jason, who was only half paying attention before since he was rocking his chair back and forth.

"What is _it_?" Dick inquired.

Evie bit her bottom lip, as if considering if she should tell them or not.

"I saw you, Evie. You can't hide it now." Damian said, taking his seat back so Jason couldn't use it as a footrest.

"I have a… Well, they called it a gift. The people at the orphanage, that is. Sometimes, I can help people who get hurt. Like when Mr. Wayne was shot, I was scared he would die and… it just _happened._ But it's not always healing people. When… when I'm scared someone will hurt me, I can give my injury to them." Evie tried to explain.

"So, you have superpowers?" Jason tried to clarify.

"I guess. But not like Superman or anything. I can't fly or see through walls." Evie stated. "I can't control it either. It only happens when I'm scared."

The group was silent for a moment, as if thinking collectively how to respond to having the information dumped on them. The idea wasn't so farfetched, as many people nowadays had superpowers thanks to the mutation of metagene.

"You are forgiven this time, Evie." Damian says after a moment of heavy silence.

He's still wearing a spiteful expression, but his attitude has become more docile.

"I don't like not knowing. It impedes my ability to assess a situation properly." He said after a moment. "You will do my chore shift this week as punishment."

Evie seemed tense, as if she was bracing herself for the rejection. But unbeknownst to her, she was in the presence of a family of vigilantes where superpowers were a common occurrence. The moment Damian seemed to sentence her to a week of chores rather than condemning her to leave and never come back, her shoulders slumped with relief. She offered Damian a smile and nodded. Alfred, who seemed to be on the verge of having a heart attack, was finally able to calm his nerves. And Dick and Jason, who had been getting ready to pull the two apart, could sniffed, seemingly pleased with himself, turned back to glaring at the front desk ladies, who had been watching them the whole time.

But just then, the doors to the emergency room slid open and someone walked in. Not staff or a patient, but Talia Al Ghul herself. The Batfam went silent, everyone's stance becoming defensive, as if preparing themselves for a fight. Damian was the first to speak up.

"Mother," He said, as he turned to her. "What business do you have here?"

"I heard some rumors that my beloved might be in the hospital." She explained casually, feigned worry.

It's clear that none of the Batfam were buying her shtick and they stayed silent.  
"Fine, fine. I was watching. I was in town because I have some information to trade. I'm just here to get what I came for." Talia said with a dramatic sigh.

"Bruce won't be taking any visitors right now, he needs rest. He was just _shot_." Dick explained, as he tried to mask his frustration with professionalism.

But unlike any normal person, Talia doesn't care.

"He'll be fine." Talia said, spotting the clipboard on the front desk out of the corner of her eyes. "He's in room 212, right?"

Dick's hands balled into fists. He was hoping to have delayed her a little longer. But this woman was as sharp as a tack, as much as he hated to admit it. With a triumphant smirk and a swing of her hips, Talia sauntered down the hallways towards Bruce's room. Once there, she quietly slipped through the door to an unsuspecting Bruce. However, Bruce seemed to be well aware he had a visitor and was sitting up in bed. An oddly hard hospital pillow was pressed between his back and the headboard so he wouldn't hurt his injury as he sat up. He turned his head when he heard the door open, eyes narrowed as he saw who had entered.

"Talia," He said, brusquely.

By his expression, it was clear to see he was not pleased by her presence. Talia crossed lean arms over his chest and leaned against the nearest wall. She wore a smile on her sharp features, but it wasn't pleasant or warm. She had something over him. Not all Bruce had to do was figure it out.

"You need something." He states, unamused.

"I do. And you have questions. A give-and-take situation I presume?"

"What do you want?" Bruce asked, cracking his knuckle absent mindedly.

"A vile of Damian's blood." Talia said, as if it were normal.

"Ask Damian. It's not my blood." Bruce said bitterly. "But if he says 'no', not my problem."

"Fine… But you won't stop me?" Talia asked, throwing him a suspicious look.

"Only if you don't answer my questions truthfully." Bruce reasoned.

"Is it about the new runt you've taken in? She looks shockingly like Damian."

That damn smile. That stupid 'cat that ate the canary' look said it all. She knew.

"She's ours, isn't she?" Bruce asked, his tone softer this time.

"And if she is? Are you going to sue for child support?" Talia teased.

"Why did you abandon her?" Bruce asked bluntly.

"She was supposed to die. Born with little to no organs and the ones she did have, didn't work right." Talia said, dismissively. "Father opted for me to kill her and spare her the pain of a slow death. But I dropped her off at an orphanage."

"You're not telling the truth, Talia." Bruce said coldly. "I know you. And you wouldn't spare someone's life if it didn't have any benefits to it."

Talia chuckled darkly.

"You know me too well, beloved. But you are right. The absence of her organs was the result of injecting essence from the lazarus pit into the embryo. I wanted her alive in case it ever affected her later in life. But I could not keep something so _weak_ around. So I gave her to an orphanage." Talia finally explained properly. "But she's older now and is still nothing more than insignificant."

"You're disgusting, Talia. You're talking about your _child_ , _our_ child." Bruce spoke through grit teeth.

"I know. Then on my behalf, why don't you give her what I could not."

Talia tapped sharp nails against the railing of Bruce's bed before she left swiftly. The sound of her heels clacked against the tiled hallway and faded until it was nothing but a memory. If Bruce hadn't known Talia, he would have said that she looked almost… sad. But he knew Talia. He knew she raised Damian from the day he was born to be a killer. To know nothing of love and childhood. Just loyalty and duty. There was no way she could feel guilty for hurting the child she had abandoned.

"Bruce,"

The voice caught his attention and scattered his thoughts to the back of his mind. He glanced up from his lap towards the door. In the doorway, the Batfam was squeezing in as close as physically possible to all fit in the narrow opening . Bruce felt a smile tug at his lips and waved them all in. Jason borrowed some chairs from other rooms so everyone had a place to sit. The room was rather small with everyone crowded around him, but Bruce didn't mind. The warmth that welled up in his chest as he was pestered with hundreds of questions: Did he need an extra pillow, was he in pain, was he tired; was something he welcomed. Eventually, Bruce was able to fend off the worried Batfam by assuaging their concerns. The moment the room grew quiet enough for Bruce to speak up, he asked everyone to leave. Everyone except Evie. After exchanging unsure looks and briefs pauses of confusion, everyone exited out the door to the waiting room to the give the two some privacy.

"Are… Are you upset with me?" Evie in a voice softer than a whisper.

Evie was fiddling with the end of her skirt, her heel scuffing against the tiled floor. Her gaze was cast towards the far corner of the room, suddenly finding it very interesting. Bruce could read the anxiety in her expression from a mile away. It was time they had a real talk, a heart-to-heart.

"No, I am not." Bruce assures gently. "But would you come sit with me?"

Bruce pats the empty side of the bed and Evie clumsily climbs up on top of the hospital bed. Her legs dangle off the side gently and she helps Bruce shift the guard railing off to the side so it wouldn't poke her in the side while she sat.

"I want to tell you something, Evie. Something very important. And I ask that you don't interrupt until I am finished. Does that make sense?" Bruce asks, keeping his tone light despite the serious expression he wore.

Evie nodded and moved to fold her hands in her lap as she provided him with all of her undivided attention. Pleased by her reaction, Bruce shifted a little and began to speak. He told her about how he found her. His mind flashing back to the lifeless form she held inside that cage as he spoke. Confusion crossed Evie's delicate features, then came sadness as she learned of Talia. How she had been abandoned, tossed aside practically. That Bruce hadn't learned about her existence until now. However, he planned to make it up to her. But she didn't speak up. She didn't even break down or cry. Just a singular little tear slipped down her cheek and disappeared into the bed sheets. That was it.

"And with that, would you like to live with me?" Bruce asked, hoping his voice was as kind as he thought it sounded.

"Like, I can stay in the room I have in now?" Evie asked, unsure.

"You can keep it. It'll be your room."

"My own room?"

"Of course. I've got plenty of room." Bruce assured. "But with this room, do you also accept that conditions?"

"Conditions?" She echoed.

"If you accept the room, you officially become a member of the Wayne family."

"For real? I can… I can be your daughter?" Excitement shimmered in Evie's eyes as she turned to Bruce, hands falling on his knees.

"For as long as you'll have us." Bruce reiterated.

"Then yes! I want to stay with you!"

Evie threw her arms around Bruce's neck, sending him falling onto his back. The two laughed as they tipped back, the cheerfully loud sound echoing and resounding off the bare walls of the hospital room. And just outside the hallway, the Batfam was listening; some with their ears pressed against the wall. But all were smiling, both hopeful and grateful for Bruce and Evie's decision.


	5. Under Pressure

Evie slipped from her bed, blanky in hand as she toddled down the stairs. Her sock clad feet shuffled along the wood paneling, bumping into a few walls on her way as she miscalculated the depth of the hallways. Jason, who had woken only an hour ago himself, watched with interest as Evie shuffled along with eyes half closed and messy pajamas. He rushed forward to catch her when she nearly bumped into her fourth wall for that morning. The hands on her shoulders didn't even seem to register and Evie continued to walk, clearly still half asleep. Jason steered her carefully into the kitchen, making sure she avoided any other obstacles on the way. Jason could only relax when he had Evie settled down on a kitchen chair at the counter.

"G'morning, Jay." Evie greeted as he moved past her to the kitchen counter.

Jason chuckled at the sleep slurred words and moved to rest his elbows on the counter as he stood across from Evie. He reached over to move her hair out of her eyes. But it was a futile attempt since Evie's hair was sticking up at odd angles and was even more uncooperative when Jason tried to fix it. When had he grown so domestic? Perhaps it was around the time that Evie started to follow him around and call his name all the time, "Jay, Jaaay~, Jay!" Oh God, she was so cute.

"Wha's f'breakfast?" Evie asked eloquently.

"How do pancakes sound?" Jason said, opening up the fridge to see what was available.

"Yeah!"

Evie's expression lit up and it seemed like she was more awake now, as the black haired vigilante seemed to catch her attention. She scooted off her chair and helped Jason set places for everyone else at the counter, clumsily folding napkins around groups of cutlery. Evie was very proud of the fact that she knew where all of the silverware went.

"Jay, are you cooking? I thought Alfred did the cooking?" Evie said, now back in her seat at the counter.

Jason stood two feet away at the stove top, pouring cream brown content from a large bowl into an iron frying pan.

"What, don't think I can handle making pancakes? Is cooking too uncool for me to do?" Jason answered, wearing his usual teasing smirk.

While he didn't look it, Jason was an amazing cook. Well… compared to the rest of the Batfam. Dick and Tim were the types who would eat rice with goldfish, Damian felt that culinary skills were not as useful as combat skills, and God knows Bruce would go without eating if he could. But Jason was poor growing up, he didn't get a lot of food. But as he got older, Jason got into cooking. Maybe because he couldn't enjoy homemade meals as a child? Though, he would never admit to this. He mostly did pasta and steak when he was in high school. Though now he could make more fancy dishes, stuff with unpronounceable names and weird ingredients.

"Are you making your famous pancakes, Jason?" A familiar voice asked.

Dick appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, dressed in a pair of loose sweatpants and an old, faded T-shirt. He moved behind the counter to glance over Jason's shoulder, checking out the pan. Seeming to approve, Dick sauntered over to the counter to grab a seat next to Evie. Evie and Dick shared a conversation about how nicely the table was set up and soon, the kitchen started to smell like butter and flour.

"Where's Dami and Tim?" Evie asked as Jason slid a plate of pancakes in front of her.

"I put a pot of coffee on just a few min-"

Jason was cut off when a smaller, dark haired teenager slid past him. Tim did always seem to know when coffee was brewing downstairs.  
"I found him." Jason finished.

Tim made a noise in response before he removed the _entire_ pot of coffee and took it with him to his seat at the counter. His eyes held exhaustion and the dark grey bags emphasized the dull color in his eyes. But he managed to offer Evie a warm smile when she said 'good morning'.

"But where's Damian?" Dick asked, sipping at his glass of juice as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Swor-... Sports practice." Tim started and then corrected.

The trio of dark haired males took a conspicuous drink from their glass, hoping to end the conversation there. Thankfully, Damian walked into the kitchen in the next moment. He still had leaves in his hair and was sweaty from his early morning workout. At least Alfred wouldn't have to call the gardner this month…

"Ah, speak of the devil and he will come." Jason chided.

"Todd, you better have saved some pancakes for me." Damian said, coldly.

"Nope. Why would I make pancakes for the demon spawn?" Jason teased, stacking the last of the pancakes from the pan onto his own plate.

"Tt."

Damian made an irritated sound and Dick was getting ready to break up the fight that was about to take place. Jason just laughed and gave Damian a not so gentle shove in jest, pushing him towards an open chair. He piled a few pancakes on a new plate for Damian. Damian angrily ate his pancakes, trying to make it seem like he was not enjoying them. Jason smirked knowingly, even the demon spawn couldn't resist a stack of fresh, hot pancakes.

"I'm leaving. With or without you, Drake." Damian said, after finishing his pancakes all too quickly to have hated them.

"Hold it, I'm coming, I'm coming." Tim scooted off his chair after downing the rest of the coffee.

Tim grabbed his backpack from the bottom of the staircase. Getting his coat from the closet, Tim forced Damian's on him. It was cold outside, and no matter what Damian said, he'd be better off wearing a coat.

Everyday Evie would watch Tim and Damian leave precisely at 7 o'clock for school. All of Bruce's kids had attended Gotham Academy at one point or another. All except Evie. Bruce had figured the bustling environment of school might be a little too overwhelming for Evie. After all, she was still recovering from her injuries. Not to mention her psyche still seemed a bit too fragile and there was still the possibility that whoever tried to kill her was still at large. But everyday, Evie got this far away, almost longing, look in her eyes as she watched Tim and Damian leave for school. While neither of the boys ever seemed particularly excited about going, Evie seemed secretly curious.

"Did you like school, Jay?" Evie asked, seemingly out of the blue.

For a moment, Jason is caught off guard and nearly chokes on his water. Anyone who knew Jay could easily deduce that such a structured environment wasn't something the vigilante enjoyed, especially since he was so bullheaded and free willed as a child. Jason would have answered honestly, calling his teachers bitches or explaining how mundane the lessons were, but a strict look from Dick made him wise up.

"I don't think anyone really _likes_ school." Jason said, drawing out his words to give him more time to think of what to say. "But I did learn a lot."

"Stuff like math?" Evie inquired.

"Sure, but even more than that. I read at least fifty different books!" Jason said, English being his best subject.

"Fifty?" Evie echoed, clearly impressed.

"You bet. Books on wars, books about family, and I even read some plays." Jason explained.

Even if Jason spent most of his school days skipping or making his teachers pull out their hair, he did always manage to get an 'A' in English. Jason's everyday vernacular consists mostly of insults and curse words, though his actual vocabulary is quite expansive. His essays reflected his true understanding of writing and always seemed to be thought provoking, no matter the subject. Bruce had managed to save a few and had them hidden away. And speaking of, Bruce walks in. He's wearing one of his work suits and still trying to fix his tie.

"You made pancakes, Jason?" He asked, eyeing the vigilante suspiciously.

Jason hasn't cooked for the family in quite a while. Not since… he "died". But Bruce wasn't going to complain. Jason made terrific pancakes.

"I had some extra time this morning." Jason replied dismissively.

"Are there any left?" Bruce asked, grabbing a newspaper from the center of the counter.

"Not for you." Jason responded wisely.

Bruce frowned, but not because he was disappointed in not getting any pancakes.

"I'll share my pancakes with you." Evie said, scooting her chair closer to Bruce so she could share her plate with him.

Bruce lowered his newspaper and smiled fondly as Evie happily offered him a fork. Jason made an annoyed huff as he passed behind the two of them, a warm pan in his hands.

"You don't have to share your food with _him_." Jason said, sounding defeated.

Jason slid two fresh pancakes onto a plate for Bruce and set it not-so-gently in front of the billionaire. Satisfied with the results, Bruce let Jason off the hook and moved in to eat his breakfast. It was a nostalgic taste, not only because Jason only used to make these when they completed a case, but because Alfred had taught Jason this recipe. Alfred made these pancakes every Sunday morning for the young billionaire, declaring that Sunday was a lazy day and Bruce should do whatever he liked. Pancakes were a wonderful way to start off a lazy day.

"Papa, can I go to school too?" Evie asked, breaking the momentary silence between everyone.

Bruce had urged Evie to drop the 'Mr. Wayne' schtick after he realized Evie was still calling him that even though she knew he was her father. This seemed to throw Evie off balance a little, as she wasn't quite sure how to refer to Bruce now that he was her father. Damian suggested that she call him 'Father' as he does, but Bruce could absolutely not handle another Damian. So Evie had taken to calling Bruce 'Papa'.

"Hm… I don't know if that's really a good idea." Bruce said, trying to approach the topic sensitively.

But that's not really his forte and he casts a side glance to Dick, as if asking for help. Bruce looked back to Evie and she had turned in her chair to face him properly, wide, luminous eyes seeming to stare right through him. How could he deny those big, blue eyes anything? He couldn't. _He was weak._

"Tim and Damian are big kids, so they can go to school. School requires _a lot_ of work." Dick said, hoping that argument might dissuade Evie.

"But I read a book that says school starts at age 5. And I'm eight." Evie reasoned.

Jason and Bruce seemed a little taken back by Evie's statement. She's right, she's eight. What kind of books is she reading already? But Dick expected no less. He had discovered her reading on one of the first few days she was in the manor. And the fact that she was a Wayne, only egged on his theory that she was above her reading par. After all, Damian was reading Charles Dickens at ten. Unbounded intellect seemed to run in the family. Before Dick continues to speak, he looked to Bruce for approval. He had an idea of what to do, but he can't go acting on his own. Bruce seemed to understand and gave a curt little nod.

"Well, in truth, the world doesn't know you exist yet, Evie. You don't have a birth certificate, or any medical records for that matter. We couldn't register you in school if we wanted to." Dick explained.

The truth disheartened Evie and she cast a sad glance down at the floor, swinging her legs under the chair. But she didn't complain or fuss, being the good kid she was. She simply accepted the fact like a spoonful of bitter medicine, and seemed to drop the topic. Everyone could tell that she really wanted to go to school.

"Though that said, there's still a way for you to go to school, but it will take some time." Dick started after he believed the first half of his words have sunk in. "If we have a coming out party for you, with media coverage and the whole nine yards, we could make up an excuse as to why there are no records of your existence. A sort of 'Dubtante', if you will."

The billionaire finally start to get an understanding of where Dick was going with this. It made sense. These kinds of parties were rather common among the aristocratic circle. Bruce had attended quite a few of these as a teenager, so he was quite familiar with the idea. Dick eyed Bruce as he continued to speak, as if to make sure what he was saying was still okay with him. Judging by Bruce's relaxed posture, Dick takes it as an 'ok' and continues.

"Bruce is a billionaire, so it's understandable that he would want to keep his lover a secret, for fear of exposing them to all that media attention. It's also a very stressful situation to be followed around by the media wherever you go, and it could take a toll on someone who was pregnant. Therefore, Bruce kept your birth very need-to-know until you were old enough to handle the stress." Dick explained. "Then once the word gets out, we'll be able to register you at school. But,"

Dick paused and turned to Evie, brushing stray strands out of her eyes. She may have been a kid, but her eyes say that had been following along the whole time. Not once did her eyes leave Dick and not once did she seem lost. Evie was smart, much more than she let on.

"But only if you can handle the party. We will host the party and if all the media attention and all the people become too much for you, we'll just have to try again next year." Dick finished.

It was a pretty solid plan. Anyone in the Batfam was constantly under scrutiny of the mass media. Even they found it to be quite stressful at times, especially with their double lives. But they all managed to put up with it, even Damian. And if Evie couldn't handle being followed around by dozens of reporters, she definitely couldn't do it while she was at school surrounded by hundreds of other kids who would be judging her and trying to take advantage of her.

"I… I still want to go!" Evie said, breaking the heavy silence that weighed down on all of them.

Dick smiled and gave a nod of approval. He didn't expect anything less of a Wayne. Dick clapped his hands together, as if calling an end to the session and brought up his closing argument.

"Then it's settled, we'll work out the technicalities with times and dates and place. And all you, my little scholar, will have to do is keep your cool, okay?" Dick said, glancing down into those clear blue eyes.

"Even if you try to choke yourself with that tie, Damian, you won't get out of having to attend the gala." Dick remarked casually, adjusting his bowtie in the mirror.

The young Robin stood underneath of him, grumbling angrily and pulling at the offending article of clothing hard enough to nearly cut off his air supply. Jason had haphazardly thrown himself over the arm of a couch in a position that only a cat could find comfortable, while Tim was downing a concoction made of coffee, energy drinks, and concentrated caffeine. All of the boys were finally dressed, a nightmare only a parent of 5 could understand.

"I understand that this gala is mandatory. But I do not understand why I must wear these horrendous clothes." Damian said, clicking his tongue as he finally gave up the fight against his bowtie "Not to mention they interfere with my combat abilities. They're too restrictive."

"You're not meant to be able to fight in a tuxedo." Jason said, stretching his arms far over his head so he can crack his back.

"You would think with all of Bruce's money he'd have found a tailor by now that would make that possible." Tim said, chuckling to himself as he fiddled on his phone.

Dick rolled his eyes as he ran a stressed hand through his silky, dark locks as he looked heavenward, as if praying for patience.

"Speaking of B, where is he?" Jason said, sitting forward a bit so he could position himself to look around the room. "Aren't we all supposed to make our grand entrance in, like, eight minutes?"

The young vigilantes all took the moment to look around the room, as if they might have actually missed a 6'2'', well muscled figured standing in the room somewhere. They were all quietly surprised to see that Bruce wasn't on time and getting ready with the rest of the BatFam. He was normally the person who was ready first, then taking his extra time to force the others to get ready before they were late. God knows that Tim wouldn't leave his laptop until the very last possible minute. And almost by magic, the door handle to the room jingled and the door creaked open to reveal a familiar brooding expression.

Bruce stood in the doorway with all his former glory, winged collar of his tuxedo folded neatly over his black bowtie. With just one look, one could see that Bruce was all the billionaire that his funds had claimed. His tuxedo was no ready-made suit one would purchase at any old tailor shop. No, this bespoke tuxedo was infused with all of the excitement and mysterious allure a black tie affair commands. The garment had been brought to life by human hands, sewn, tucked, and clipped to absolute perfection so that it conformed to Bruce's lean muscle in a way that was just delectable. But did any of the dark haired vigilantes in the room act in any form of awe or seem to care?

No.

No, all dark haired vigilantes had their eyes on something else. A certain someone far more important than Bruce, and far more interesting. All forms of blue eyes were glued to the tiny, itty-bitty form in Bruce's arms.

In Bruce's arm, sat Evie all curled up and settled against the billionaire's chest. Jet black hair had been brushed out of those big, blue eyes and pinned back with a silvery alloy hairband, twisted in an intricate pattern to form n exoctic-looking flower. She wore a dress made a soft, white fabric. The dress' sweetheart neck sat delicately against her collar bones and short sleeves ended in curving scallops along her upper arm, while lace was layered over the the trims. A dark blue, satin sash was tied around Evie's waist to give the dress a pop of color. The skirt had many layers to it, and if she twirled, there was no doubt it would look majestic and awe inspiring.

" _Oooh._ Look at my little princess!" Dick cooed, immediately rushing over to fuss over the girl.

Evie giggled as Dick and Tim complimented her dress, her cheeks dusted with a light pink. Jason was discreetly taking pictures on his phone, hiding his moved expression under his hand. As Bruce let Evie down, she ran over to Damian. He took a defensive step backwards, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Dami, you look cool!" Evie exclaimed excitedly.

Damian seemed to be taken aback by the nickname, even more flustered by the compliment. But he steeled his gaze and tried to keep up his poker face.

"I suppose you look nice, too." Damian mentioned casually, trying to keep up his facade.

Evie's eyes seemed to sparkle at the praise and she instantly wrapped her arms around the taller boy, squeezing him in a tight hug. Poor Damian was immediately overcome with panic and he stood there stiffly, looking to the others for what to do next. But Dick and Jason just stood there smugly, Tim snapping a picture to use as future blackmail, while Bruce looked upon his children with a soft fondness.

"Alright, alright. It's about time to go in." Dick said, rescuing Damian from Evie's grasp. "Are you ready to do in there, munchkin?"

Evie looked up at Dick, blue eyes littered with doubts. She anxiously shifted her gaze to Bruce, and then to Jason, and then Tim, and finally Damian. And the reservations vanished. Evie inhaled sharply to gather her courage, a determined expression working its way across her delicate features. She nodded once, and turned towards the door leading to the event hall.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Dick said, seeming reassured by Evie's resolution.

Bruce turned the brass knob, pushing the door open as he lead the family out into the crowded hall. As soon as he did, hundreds of flashes from all sorts of cameras blinded them. The sea of sound instantly flood everyone, drowning them in the cacophony of noise and chaos. The whole event hall had been filled ceiling to floor with people, mostly paparazzi and media. The Batfam stood together, surveying the room. Everyone, except Evie, had been to plenty of these fancy events before. And they knew exactly what to expect: Business offers from well off businessmen for Bruce, young women with heavy make up looking to hitch Jason or Dick (or perhaps both), and paparazzi interrogating Tim and Damian, in hopes of getting the latest scoop. And of course, they had to rub elbows with other wealthy folk, needing to keep up their status. Just being in the room reminded everyone of just how stressful it was to put on that facade, knowing a single wrong move could result in rumors, disdain, and public humiliation. And as the realization dawned on everyone, they all looked to little Evie. Could she do it? Could she handle the balancing act of being a Wayne, or would she break under the pressure? Now was the deciding moment


End file.
